


The Boys Are Back In Town: A RicStar Miscellany

by VanaTuivana



Category: X-Factor (Comics), X-Force (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble Collection, Ficlet Collection, M/M, One Shot Collection, One True Pairing, One Word Prompts, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2018-12-01 18:23:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 8,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11492067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanaTuivana/pseuds/VanaTuivana
Summary: Guess who just got back today?Them wild-eyed boys that had been away...In honor of Rictor and Shatterstar finally making their way back into the main universe after years (years!) in comic-book limbo, I'm collecting various prompted drabbles and short ficlets I've written over the years for my Marvel OTP all in one place. Everything is Rictor/Shatterstar in various eras, continuities, and AUs. Nothing is complete enough to stand on its own.Most recently added: Chapters 12-18, 7 November 2017.





	1. Haircut. X-Force era.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ric gets a haircut. Or tries to, anyway. Because their X-Force-era hair is one of the greatest things about Rictor and Shatterstar, and it deserves a ficlet of its own.

One thing about living with X-Force was that everyone felt entitled to share their opinion on everything you did, particularly when they were all gathered at the breakfast table where there was no escape. Ric was slumping further down in his chair with every passing moment, and the only thing that kept him from checking out of this conversation entirely was the fact that Shatterstar was sitting cross-legged by his knees, sharpening his blades in preparation for the day like he did every morning, and any kind of sudden movement was probably going to lead to a tragic but utterly preventable foot-amputation accident. There weren’t enough chairs in this particular temporary HQ for everybody to sit at once, which usually left Feral lounging on the counter in the mornings with her almost-raw bacon (the way she looked when she ate meat, and the way she licked her claws afterwards, made Rictor glad he sat on the other end of the table) and ‘Star babying his swords under the table where he was out of everyone else’s way. 

“Aww, shut up, Jimmy,” Tabby had been saying. “I think it’s cute.” She made a kissy face at Rictor, who let his head fall back against the back of his chair with a thud. His attempt at a ponytail swung free, making Jimmy snicker and, Rictor had to admit it, kind of proving his point. “You wanna borrow a scrunchie, babe? Maybe some barrettes to--”

“Hey now, y’all leave Ric alone,” Sam butted in. With the best of intentions, Rictor was sure, but right now his assistance was absolutely unappreciated, particularly when it came with that patented Sam Guthrie version of honesty in compliments. “Ah like it. It looks... Ah mean... well, Ric, you sure don’t look... too much like a girl.”

And that made Rictor sit bolt upright and curse at him in Spanish. 

Looking back, right then was when everything started to go downhill.

“Julio, it is highly unlikely that Sam’s mother is a prostitute,” Shatterstar interjected with every appearance of seriousness from the floor, while Sam turned tomato-red and Tabby laughed so hard she looked like she might fall right off her chair. “I have not met many prostitutes, but on the television their economic straits often appear to be dire, and Sam's mother has adequate income from her farm. And I do not think they are usually so old."

"Hey," Sam said faintly, though even he must've realized there was no way he could win this one. Rictor knocked 'Star fondly in the back with his knee, which earned him a minorly disapproving look, but he could tell when Shatterstar was mad and that wasn't it.

Feral was taking an interest, in her hungry way that always gave Rictor the heebie-jeebies, now that Star had chimed in. She slipped down from her perch on the counter and prowled toward them with her tail flicking the air behind her; Rictor instinctively clutched at Star’s shoulder, though whether it was to make sure that the guy stayed in between him and the terrifying tigerlady or to try to keep him from getting grouchy and stabbing her was debatable.

"Shattybuns," she purred, ignoring Rictor entirely, "what's a good boy like you know about whores, hmm? Don't tell me you have to _pay_ for it." She flicked her eyes to Rictor then in a look he couldn't read, but it made him feel vaguely uncomfortable anyway.

Rictor wasn't sure, but he thought Star was sharpening his swords with more force than he had been a minute ago, and he tightened his fingers on his friend's shoulder. "Amigo," he murmured.

"Julio," Shatterstar responded in a perfectly even tone, and brushed his hand away, surging to his feet in one smooth motion that, as usual, looked totally rehearsed and totally unselfconscious all at the same time. "I do not choose to speak with you about this matter, Feral."

Tabby and Jimmy were apparently setting up some kind of betting pool at the other end of the table; Sam was still pink around the cheeks and making futilely placating noises; Star was staring down Feral with that look he got when Rictor could practically _feel_ him yearning toward mutilation and destruction; and into that mass of completely typical team chaos Rictor said loudly, "You know what? You guys are right. C'mon, Star, you're gonna cut my hair."

He stood and walked out, ignoring the sudden quiet behind him and not even turning to see if Shatterstar was going to follow him upstairs or not. He didn't have to, anyway; he could hear the swords sliding swiftly into their sheaths, and feel the change in the air when Star moved smoothly in behind him.

~

"Sit down, Julio," Star said from behind him and rested one hand on his shoulder, pressing insistently. Rictor hesitated, because the second thoughts were building up now, but slipped into the chair anyway, and waited while Shatterstar went to get the shears from the shared bathroom.

Though he couldn't see Shatterstar, he could hear that very particular metallic sound his swords made in their sheaths when he moved. Guy was quiet like a cat, but if you listened close the swords usually gave him away. Rictor closed his eyes and listened, so that when Star came up and touched the back of his neck he wasn't even startled.

(It briefly crossed his mind to be concerned about giving a guy who routinely decapitated people and who carried around two double-bladed swords sharper than most people's filet knives access to his neck with a pair of scissors. Rictor wasn't a _trusting_ person. But he couldn't even bring himself to be alarmed. This was Star. Simple as that.)

"Julio," Star said, not far from his ear. "Are you certain you wish me to do this? The others are wrong to mock your hairstyle. It is practical and laudable to tie back your hair for battle. Do they laugh at me when I do the same?"

He sounded honestly troubled enough that Rictor twisted around to look at him. "No way, 'mano," he assured Star. "See, the difference is, when _you_ wear a ponytail it's all symbolic and meaningful with the epic warrior braids and stuff. Nobody would laugh at that. When _I_ wear a ponytail, I look like a girl." He tugged irritably at the band he'd used to hold it up and shook his head until his dark hair was all over the place. It was heavy and hot and messy and it got in the way and yeah, he was almost firmly convinced that it was time for it to go. 

Almost.

Star lifted the mass of hair off of Rictor's neck with one hand, smoothing the strands with the other. The touch was light, almost tentative, not like him at all. "I would braid your hair if you asked me to, Julio," he said, serious and intense. "They could not break jokes about you then."

"Crack jokes," Rictor corrected absently. That was second nature by now. "And they totally would. But that's not why I want you to cut it, Star, it's just... time, you know?"

"Ah," Star answered solemnly, as though he’d said something wise. He slid his fingers through Rictor's hair once more, and then lifted the scissors, preparing to make the cut. Rictor closed his eyes.

And then the explosion happened, rocking the house beneath them.

They cleared out so fast, the room was empty long before a single lock of dark hair landed gently on the floor.


	2. Genderswap. Vaguely X-Corp related.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What this fandom really needs is always-girls!RicStar kicking ass together, as is only right and proper. This ficlet is not that, but it could be!

Julia hated it when she woke up and Shatterstar was already gone. She was used to it by now -- her partner didn't like sleeping in, and Julia mostly slept soundly enough these days that she didn't always notice Star sneaking out of their shared room -- but that didn't mean she had to like it. She'd used to enjoy being alone, but then Star had come along and suddenly a lot of things were different. 

She bothered to push her short dark hair into some sort of order with her fingers and tug on a sweatshirt before she went down to find Star, whom she discovered in the gym working through her sword drills probably for the dozenth time already this morning. Julia didn't interrupt her, just slid down to sit against the wall and watched the way her long red braids danced through the air like living things as she spun and slashed and defeated every imaginary opponent. She still didn't get the importance her friend placed on those braids, not really, but they were beautiful.

When Star finally sheathed the swords and came over (barely even breathing hard; she was absolutely unreal sometimes), Julia accepted the proffered strong, callused hand and pulled herself to her feet. "Hey," she said, and grinned up at her friend. Watching Star train put her in her happy place like nothing else did this early in the morning. "Doing six impossible things before breakfast again?" 

Predictably, Star just looked at her like she was crazy, with that familiar furrowed brow of concern. "Julia?"

"Alice in Wonderland," she explained, and waved her hand to say it didn't matter. "Never mind. Come on, you go shower and I'll get us something to eat."


	3. Mirrorverse AU.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which teenaged Rictor used his powers to become the feared leader of his family's gun-smuggling gang, and Shatterstar is an assassin sent to kill him! (Spoiler: he doesn't.)

Julio was waiting when his cousins dragged the spy in for his inspection, though there wasn’t much to see, just blood and bruises on pale skin under a mess of tangled bright hair. He watched impassively as Berto forced the man (boy, really; he didn’t look any older than Julio himself) to his knees in front of him.

He watched for a moment in silence. The boy _had_ to be in pain: one shoulder was definitely dislocated and the arm hung uselessly, he likely had some broken ribs from the way he was curled around one side, a few fingers were out of joint, his mouth looked bloody and one eye was swollen almost shut. Still, he didn’t look as broken as most people did after spending time with Julio’s boys, and his one visible eye was bright and alert as he glared right back at Julio.

“Who sent you?” he said after a moment, and repeated the question in English when the boy showed no sign of understanding. He hissed something back in a language Julio didn’t recognize and spat blood onto the warehouse floor.

Julio turned to Hector, who shook his head. “He hasn’t said anything we could understand, _capitán_ ,” he said, and nudged the boy with one booted foot. “Whoever sent him didn’t want him telling secrets. Dangerous to let him walk away, though, seeing what he’s seen. You want we should take him out back?”

“Not yet,” Julio answered slowly, frowning in thought. “I want answers. And if he’s for hire, we can pay a better price.” He tapped on his lower lip with one finger for a moment before reaching his decision. “Diego,” he said, and his cousin stepped forward. “Get him cleaned up and fed, and get that doctor to patch him up. And then bring him to my room.”

“Julio,” Diego started, watching him warily, “this kid killed three of your guards with a _sword_. Do you really think--” Julio fixed his cousin with his most impassive look and flexed his fingers, just a little, as a reminder of the power he held that made him a match for anyone, and Diego swallowed and stepped back. “Of course, as you say.”


	4. Dystopia AU, with bonus Jean Grey.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A scene from the obligatory mutants-in-internment-camps dark-future AU.

Jean still had a long way to go tonight, and she almost didn’t stop when she saw the curl of smoke over the hill. Even the most powerful mutants didn’t like the idea of being outside the walls of the settlement when night fell. But when she caught a flash of heartache and worry from that direction, she didn’t stop to think -- she changed direction and headed over to see what she could do to help.

There was a tiny shack half-hidden in a grove, and inside she could feel two people -- the distracted thoughts that were so strong she’d heard them from a distance, and a quieter confused jumble of disjointed images of the sort she recognized as delirium. Someone was sick or badly hurt inside, then, and someone else was frantic with worry, and Jean just _couldn’t_ leave well enough alone.

“Hello?” she called, stopping a safe distance away from the shack and reaching out tentatively with her mind. There was absolute silence inside, punctuated by a flurry of panicked thoughts from the worrier, and Jean added, “Will you come out? I’m not a hunter -- I only want to talk.”

Another moment later, a dark head poked warily out of the window, along with the muzzle of a shotgun. “Go away,” the boy said, his voice rough with weariness or pain. She couldn’t place the accent, but he sounded far too young to be holding that gun. “I’ll shoot, I’m not afraid.”

Jean placed her basket carefully on the ground and spread her empty hands in plain view. “I’m not armed,” she called back. “I’m just a mutant from the Xavier settlement. I don’t care if you’re mutant or human -- if you’re hurt, I want to help. Please come out?”

The shotgun wavered, and Jean waited patiently until it, and the boy’s head, disappeared from the window. A moment later he came out the door, bloodstained and dirty and very obviously limping, still carrying the gun under one arm. At least he wasn’t aiming it at her anymore. And now she could see the stark ‘M’ tattoo over his eye that marked him as a mutant, and one old enough to have been in the camps before the war.

“The Xavier settlement,” he said, and Jean could feel him wavering between disbelief and hope. “It’s real?”

Jean smiled at him. “It’s real,” she told him. “And just a few miles from here. I’ll take you there, if you want. We don’t turn anyone away, mutant or human.”

He almost smiled back, but she could feel that worry set in again as he glanced back over his shoulder at the shack. “I -- we can’t move. Hunters attacked us three nights ago. My friend... I carried him this far, but it was hurting him too much, and now he won’t even wake up. He might...” The boy swallowed and looked down. “He might not make it.”

The fear and heartache _that_ thought caused was almost tangible, and Jean reached out impulsively to soothe him, sending reassurance his way. “I know a little bit about dealing with wounds. Let me see your friend,” she urged, and after another moment of hesitation he nodded and led her into the shack.

She could smell the infection right away, a familiar scent from her service in the settlement’s infirmary; the redhead lying on a bed of grimy rags was pale and unresponsive, covered with the remains of blood though it was obvious his friend had tried to clean him up, and when she felt his forehead he was burning up with fever. Blood and worse things were still seeping through the slightly cleaner rags bound around his arms and abdomen, and when she peeled them gently back, the punctures and slices underneath were dark, inflamed and ugly-looking. The dark-haired boy hovered over his friend, radiating protectiveness so strong Jean was sure she would’ve been able to feel it even if she hadn’t been a telepath, and when she sat back on her heels with a sigh and met his eyes, they were dark with fear.

“Your friend doesn’t look too good,” she acknowledged. “But we have a healer back at the settlement who can help if we can just get him that far. I can help you carry him, if you’ll trust me with him. My name’s Jean,” she added, because knowing her name was probably a good start in getting him to trust her.

The boy watched her for a moment, and then turned his eyes down to his friend and touched his hair gently. “I guess we don’t have any better choice,” he said, and offered his hand. “I’m Ric, and this is Star. He’s my -- he’s saved my life a bunch of times.”

“Well, let’s go save his, then,” Jean told him with all the warmth and confidence she could muster, squeezing his hand gently in hers, and took it as a good sign when Ric finally smiled back at her.


	5. Religious iconography. X-Force era.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for a "100 words of..." prompt on meme. Obviously, I have troubles staying within the 100-word limit.

Shatterstar was staring at Ric's bedroom wall, hands behind his back and head tilted pensively, when Ric looked up from his magazine to make sure he was still there and not getting into trouble. The guy could be quiet as a cat when he was absorbed in something. "What're you doing, amigo?"

"I am looking at the picture of your deceased biological mother," he answered. "She was beautiful."

"Yeah, she was." Ric craned his neck to look, too, and then he had to laugh seeing what 'Star was actually looking at. "Hey, no, my mom's the one on the left. You're looking at the Virgin of Guadalupe."

"Ah," 'Star said, and pondered the picture for another moment. "How do you know?"

"Huh?"

"That this woman is not sexually experienced," 'Star elaborated. "You've told me that that people do not usually talk about such things unless they wish to jump into the bag together. And you've also told me that you have not been sexually intimate with a woman -- yet."

Ric crossed his arms over his chest defensively, heat prickling at the back of his neck. "Jump in the _sack_."

"Whatever, Julio." 'Star looked at him expectantly, like Ric held all the answers to the weirdness of Earth.

"It's the Virgin Mary," he tried to explain. 'Star and religion weren't always the best combination. "You remember her from Christmas, right? Sam explained it all to you last winter. And she appeared in Mexico City a few hundred years ago and that's her image. She's a symbol of Mexico, and hope, and she just... reminds me of home. The good parts."

'Star regarded the image for another minute. "On my homeworld," he said, sounding more reflective than usual, "the Cadre Alliance had images of the X-Men. They were also symbols of hope for my people."

Ric bit his tongue on the automatic argument of _it's not the same thing_ , because maybe it actually was. Star's world was awful enough that maybe the X-Men _did_ look like saints from that perspective. "Yeah?" he said instead.

"But we did not speculate about their respective degrees of sexual experience."

Ric shook his head and looked down at his magazine again. "I _lived_ with them when I was a kid. Trust me, you don't want to know."


	6. Birthdays. X-Force era.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Early X-Force era, I suppose. Angry, confused young Shatterstar learning idioms is one of my favorite things!

Rictor was giving him a look he could not decipher, one eyebrow raised and his lips quirked up. "Okay," he said. "Spill." Shatterstar glanced down at the bottle of water in his hand doubtfully, and he heard Rictor expel a puff of air from his mouth. "Not -- I mean _talk_ , amigo. What's the big secret back at HQ?"

Shatterstar wrestled with the dilemma for a minute. Sam and Theresa had asked him not to tell Rictor why they were away from the base, but Rictor was now asking him to tell. Did friendship-loyalty outweigh loyalty to the leader of his team?

It didn't take long to decide that it did. Sam was his commander in the field, but in his personal life, he had been told, he could make his own decisions -- and he chose to share secrets only with Rictor, not with the rest of them. "The team is having what Theresa called a 'surprising party' to mark the day of your birth and it was her intention that you not know about it. She and Sam asked me to divert your attention elsewhere while they set up baked goods, small balls of rubber, and paper streamings."

"Balloons, and streamers," Rictor corrected him. "Ugh. What am I, ten?" He rolled his eyes, but his mouth formed a smile despite the note of annoyance in his voice. It was a friendship look, and Shatterstar felt a stirring of unpleasantness in his uemeur. He desired Rictor's friendship looks to be directed only at _him_.

"No, Julio, you are nineteen--"

"Yeah, I know how old I am." Rictor smiled at him, his eyes crinkling happily, and Shatterstar's uemeur lightened. "Thanks for the warning, man. C'mon. We're gonna go crash my own party."

~

Following Rictor's plan, Rictor approached the base on foot from the rear, a tactical position of which Shatterstar could only approve. For his part, Shatterstar purposely set off the alarm at the front gate and then hid himself, causing the team to rush out in defense of the base. (They would still not have been able to best him had he been a true opponent; but, Shatterstar noted with approval, a lesser warrior could not have stood against his team.)

When the team returned to the base, it was to find Rictor sprawled on the couch, drinking the beer they had procured for him and eating the sugary cake, and laughing at their expressions of dismay.

"Aw, c'mon, Shatty," Sam said, with a disappointed note in his voice that made Shatterstar frown at him.

"You should not have asked me to keep non-mission-essential secrets from Rictor. A good commander would not have done so."

The rest of the team made the faces that signified they were upset with him yet again, but Shatterstar ignored them in favor of watching Rictor laugh and laugh.

It was a good party, in his opinion, since it made Rictor laugh like that.


	7. Slavery. Mojoverse, dark(er) AU.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A true drabble from an AU where the rebellion failed and Shatterstar was re-enslaved by Mojo and never met Rictor. I'm so sorry.

Held immobile by three dog-soldiers, Shatterstar knelt. There was no point in further resistance. The Cadre wiped out, the Creator cancelled; a glorious cancellation in the arena was all he had to fight for now, if that was even permitted.

Mojo's platform whirred closer; he didn't look up.

" _Are you strong enough to shatter the very stars_?" Mojo mocked jubilantly, high-pitched, wheezing. "Well? Are you are you are you? Answer your lord and master, demonslave!"

Shatterstar kept his eyes on the blood on the floor, the last trace of the rebellion. "I am strong enough to fight," he said.


	8. Touch starvation. The End of X-Factor era.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the reunion on Mojoworld.

He'd kept track of time on the stone wall of his cell with little tick marks, like prisoners did on TV shows. His count was probably a little bit off because there were times after especially rough fights he'd been unconscious for who knew how many days and he'd had to guess, but it had been two and a half months, give or take a couple days.

Two and a half _months_... which was nothing next to all the years he'd been unable to touch Shatterstar in the past, so it was beyond dumb the way he was currently trying to mold himself even closer to his body with his face tucked into Star's neck. He knew it was needy and pathetic; that didn't stop him, though.

Star was feeling him up as Ric clung to him, probably just checking for injuries, but you never knew. Star'd been known to find all kinds of weird things attractive, e.g. Bobby D. in his ice form and Northstar's smug weird-shaped face, so maybe this long beard and sweat-and-blood-matted arena costume were doing it for him and this firm petting was some kind of Mojoworld foreplay.

Whatever. Ric didn't care where it was going. As long as Star just kept touching him, he was going to soak that shit up like a sponge.


	9. Kidfic. X-Factor post-canon.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As to why Spiral is back with Mojo and how she has her powers again... uh, time travel is my guess.

Even half-asleep, Rictor felt that sickening rush in the air that signaled a teleportal opening, and before he was even fully awake he was scrambling on the nightstand for his gun. "Star!" he called as he bolted upright, trying to blink the silvery spots out of his vision.

"I am here, Julio." Star was up already and fully alert, swords out in front of him as he glared at the shimmering figure that had appeared in the middle of their bedroom. " _She_ should not be, however."

"Cool it, slick," said a familiar rusty voice that made Ric's stomach twist. _Spiral._ "I come in peace." She sauntered forward, four of her arms lifted in mocking surrender. The other two were cradling something small and squirmy in front of her. "Gotta make this quick. Mojo doesn't know I'm here, and it'll go better for all of us if he never finds out."

"What," Ric said, sleep-stupid, staring at the object she was holding. "...Is that a baby?"

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner. And here's the grand prize, kiddo." She guided the little bundle into his arms, and Ric looked down into the blanket to see... pale skin, a shock of red-gold hair, a glowing eye.

"What cruel game is this, Spiral?" Star demanded, outraged, while Ric stared uncomprehendingly down at the baby version of his lover. His swords hovered threateningly near Spiral's throat. "We deposited the infant in the future to endure his fate months ago. Why have you brought him back here?" 

"Oh, this isn't _you_ , sweetie." Spiral paused. "Well, it is... and it isn't. Benjamin, Julio, meet Gaveedra-8."

Star's swords wavered in midair, and then he sheathed them with a soft _shhhk_. "Spiral," he said, with something complicated in his voice. Ric was too busy gaping at the kid to pay too much attention. "You did it."

"A promise is a promise, kiddo." She flapped all six of her hands at him. "Oh, look at the time. Places to go, people to kidnap and mutilate, you know how it is. Just... take care of the tyke, huh? Maybe raise him to be something _other_ than a lean mean killin' machine." She gave what might have passed for a genuine smile on any other face. "Maybe teach him to dance like his Auntie Rita. I'd like that."

The silver portal started spinning behind her, and Ric looked up at last from the baby, curiously calm. "Hey," he said. "Is _he_ gonna come after him?"

"Of course. Doesn't he always?" She shrugged one shoulder. "But it'll take him a while to find out where he's gone. You've got some time to get ready." Spiral gave a three-handed salute, stepping backwards into the portal. "Hasta la vista... baby."

The silver portal contracted into nothing, and she was gone.

"So, uh," Ric said after a while. "Now we've got a clone baby." He offered his finger to the infant, who clutched it in his tiny, chubby, surprisingly strong fist, and then tried to bite it. He didn't have any teeth, so it didn't actually hurt. "What did she mean -- a promise is a promise?"

"I asked her, long ago, to keep any others of my genetype out of the arena," Star answered, sounding subdued. He touched Ric's wrist softly. "I did not intend for it to become your problem, and I am sorry that you had to see that. Give it to me. I will take it elsewhere."

"What? _Where_?" Ric demanded, holding the baby tighter to his bare chest. Gaveedra-8 made a hiccupping noise in his arms. "You heard what she said. Mojo will come for him, he's not gonna be safe anywhere."

"That is untrue. There are waystations in the Crosstime where Mojo and his dog-soldiers will not find it. And it is no helpless human infant. It will be fine." Star held out his arms expectantly.

Ric frowned down at the baby. He _looked_ like a helpless human infant (except for the eyes, the skin, the unnaturally bright hair), especially when he cried out, a thin wail that tugged at Ric's heart. He bounced the kid carefully to try to soothe him. "No," he said. "He's your family -- kinda -- and he's just a baby. We're not abandoning him like we did with _you_ , Star." Ric took a deep breath. "He's your _family_. You're... his fake dad. Let's at least think about, uh, options."

Shatterstar was quiet for a few minutes, looking tense and inscrutable, while the baby's cries died off as Ric rocked him. Finally he stepped forward and placed his hand on Gaveedra-8's cheek, meeting those mismatched eyes solemnly with his own identical ones. They stared at each other, unblinking, which was both sorta adorable and sorta creepy.

"If I am to be the fake dad, does that make you the fake weird uncle, this time?" Star asked finally, and Ric couldn't help the crack of laughter that startled the kid and made him wail again.

"To be honest, I don't even know, querido." He jiggled the baby again in his arms. "Get me the phone? I wanna call Layla."


	10. Netflix. Secret Empire era, New Tian.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "100 words of Netflix" is so perfect a prompt for modern-day RicStar that I don't even know. Spoilers for the mess that is the Marvel comicverse these days.

"...and that's where we've been for the past... amount of time, whatever." Ric shrugged and downed his beer. It was okay, definitely miles better than the swill they'd had on Mojoworld. "You don't have to tell _me_ how weird it is. Anyway. What've we missed?"

The answers came flying thick and fast from the mutants gathered around the bar.

"--Captain America is a Nazi--"

"--Cyclops killed Professor Xavier and then--"

"--the original X-Men forward from the past--"

"--turns out Iceman is gay now--"

"--Inhumans tried to wipe us out--"

"--then the Phoenix Force came back on the moon and--"

"--about a million new Netflix Originals--"

"--new Thor is a woman--"

"--Wolverine is almost definitely dead, but--"

"--and Dr. Doom ruled everything (all hail Doom)--"

Ric traded wide-eyed glances with Shatterstar. "Uh," he said, holding up his hand. "Somebody go back to the Netflix thing. I think that's what we're gonna wanna focus on for a while."


	11. Uniform kink. Secret Empire era, New Tian.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This ficlet is my explanation as to how Rictor ended up wearing a shapeless ugly jumpsuit/tracksuit combination in the latest comics while everybody else gets sexy new outfits. They just could not get anything done otherwise.

New Tian didn't have _everything_ a newly-returned interdimensional time traveler could want. Good New York-style pizza, for instance. And cable TV that wasn't censored. But one thing it did have was that same Shi'ar clothing synthesizer he remembered from back when they were just kids and Tabitha thought her fashion sense was hot stuff.

(He'd _burned_ all the pictures from that era once better sense had prevailed. Some images did not need revisiting ever.)

He eyed the thing with misgiving. "Promise me one thing, Boomer," he said over his shoulder. "No shoulder pads, no knee-high boots, and, this is important, _no fringe_."

"You should be so lucky," Tabitha said, her hands skating over the controls. "You've missed so much that fringe is in again. Go on, get in there, I haven't got all day."

Ric did step inside the compartment, closing his eyes so he didn't have to see the process. It felt weird enough as it was, tingling cold and then hot, as the Shi'ar tech converted his ripped and bloodstained Mojoworld arena gear into...

Well. It was definitely an X-Men uniform.

He stepped out, brushing self-consciously at the form-fitting waist. "Spandex?" he demanded. "Seriously, Boom Boom? I'm not exactly in the shape I was in back in X-Force, and--"

"Julio," Shatterstar said, with something in his voice that made Ric stop mid-sentence and look up at him. His mismatched eyes were skating reverently all over Ric's body, lingering on the off-center white X stretching over his shoulder, the sleek fingerless gloves, the utility belt slung low around his hips, the curve of form-fitting green fabric over his thighs... "I think Boom Boom has done an _excellent_ job."

"Uh," Ric said, all his skin gone hot under the unstable molecules of the suit at the way Star was looking at him. He swallowed. "Really?"

Star moved toward him like a predator stalking prey, circling around to view him from all angles. "Fuck's sake, you guys," Ric distantly heard Tabitha say as Star reached out to trace the X over his shoulder with one hand. "Get a _room_."

"We have quarters assigned to us already," Shatterstar said without taking his eyes off Rictor's ass. "Perhaps we should go there now. I will be fine in my current uniform, Boom Boom."

"If it's gonna be like this all the time, I'm gonna haveta put Ric in a _romper_ ," Tabitha threatened as the pair of them hustled out the door. "No, a muumuu! One of Dust's big-ass robes, see if I don't..."


	12. Detectives. X-Factor #45.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the on-panel reunion, featuring special guest Guido.

Shatterstar had been back in his right mind for just over an hour (of which twenty minutes had been spent making out in a confused but joyful daze while Guido kept his eyes averted and shuffled his feet in embarrassment) and he was already giving Ric that all-too-familiar puzzled raised eyebrow.

"We are... detectives now?"

"Private eyes, investigators, yeah." Ric hadn't let go of his hand for the entire hour, completely ignoring Guido's pointed looks or the fact that they were out in public and anyone could see them. "It's... okay, you remember Jamie Madrox from the old X-Factor, the government team? Multiple Man?"

"Yes." Star frowned. "His group attempted to arrest us when we were serving on X-Force, and he joked about my hair and my swords. I was often tempted to kill him."

"Hah, join the club. Well, he started this business to investigate mutant-related crimes and mysteries and stuff, and Terry and Rahne were there, and I wasn't doing anything else, so..."

Star nodded, though his eyebrow remained quirked. "I'm not sure I know how to be a detective, Julio."

Ric grinned up at him. Despite the bruises all over him from their fight and the little cuts from his tumble through the window, despite the dull hollowness deep in his soul that was daily life now that he could no longer feel the earth's rhythms underfoot, he felt good. Better than he had in a long, long time. His heart was lighter somehow now that Star was by his side again.

"Esta bien, 'mano. To be honest, we're all just makin' it up as we go along." He squeezed Star's hand, and the smile he got in return made him pull Star up against the nearest wall to kiss him again.

"Aw, geez," Guido grumbled from several yards behind them, _sotto voce_. "Not this crap again."

Ric only spared enough attention to flip him the bird.


	13. Things unsaid. X-Force.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night before the famous airport scene from Cable #22, now with extra bonus feels.

"Julio," Shatterstar said, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder. "Don't go."

He stirred, lifting his head from the pillow where he'd been _this_ close to dozing off to blink at his best friend. He would've freaked out and lashed out if it'd been anyone else sneaking into his room like that, but even half-asleep he wasn't startled by Star. "Huh? Whazzat?"

Star was crouched on the floor next to his bed, his back arrow-straight, regarding him with shadowed silver eyes. "Don't leave tomorrow. Stay here."

Ric sighed and dropped his head down onto the pillow again. "Amigo..."

"I've told you that I need you. I've told you that I don't know what to do without you. And it's true." The way Star was looking at him, intense and unwavering, made Ric's stomach do a flip. "Stay here. Stay with _me_. Or, if you must leave, allow me to come with you."

In the cover of darkness, with Star's hand on his bare shoulder, his eyes glowing softly, the unusual raw emotion in his voice, Ric almost said yes. He almost sat up and pulled him close and promised never to leave him behind, and kissed him until they both believed it.

Instead, he shook his head and reached out to take Star's hand. "You gotta stay with Cable," he reminded him, his throat thick. "You gotta stick with him so you can take care of your people. Just like I gotta go back to 'Jara to take care of mine."

Star gripped his hand tight, his face drawn and unhappy, but he didn't say a word. Instead he lifted Ric's hand and pressed his lips to each knuckle in turn, slow and deliberate. Ric flushed, but he didn't pull his hand away.

"You're gonna be fine," he promised. "You still up for taking me to the airport in the morning?"

"I will go anywhere you ask me to, Julio." Star looked at the floor, still holding his hand fiercely.

Ric swallowed hard and tugged his hand away. "Get out of here, then, before somebody comes lookin' for you."


	14. First time. X-Force era.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-coital Ric all blissed out and in tune with the earth is my fave.

Ric looked up at Star when he could see again, still flat on his back on the floor, one hand stroking mindlessly over that pale cheek while the other hand stayed put on the small of his back, keeping him close in case he was thinking of moving away, which was just not okay. Star hardly weighed anything at all; even with their legs tangled together and Star barely propped up off his chest, Ric didn’t feel in danger of being crushed. Sweated to death, maybe, but it was okay for the moment. He didn’t want to move, anyway. He just wanted to lie here and watch Shatterstar’s face.

He was always gorgeous, so that wasn’t anything new, but this expression was. His eyes were half-lidded, his lips parted with breath coming quick. He looked... stunned. Which wasn’t something that Star _ever_ looked, and he was weirdly proud to be the cause of that. Ric tried not to grin, failed, and slid his hand back into Star’s hair, fingers slipping through the silky, sweat-damp locks.

“Hey, ‘mano,” he said, whisper-soft. “Are you freaking out?”

Star blinked down at him, apparently having to work to get his eyes to focus. “No,” he said. “Are you?”

Ric shook his head, firmly sure on that, at least. Which was crazy, because he should have been on the freak-out train headed to panicville about now. He ached all over, especially in his thighs and the pit of his stomach, and he had the feeling he would have to be careful sitting down in the morning, but... he also felt like he was _glowing_. 

He felt his own body, heavy and satisfied and so perfectly in synch; he felt the deep quiet thrum of earth and stone and growing things underneath him, the summer heat baked into the ground against the coolness of night that was just now starting to descend, the flutters of tectonic shifting and the slow wash of the tides, the stretch and yawn of the continent below as it swayed in its eternal dance. He felt the rightness of the planet carrying on as it had and would, eon after eon, regardless of the humans stumbling through their little lives on her surface. 

All that _and_ Shatterstar held in the cradle of his body, looking down at him just like that, bright and steady as the sun, and he was too full of how amazing all of this was to feel an ounce of shame. Right now, Ric couldn’t feel anything but blazingly happy.

He smiled up at Star, unable to express it any other way, and pulled him down to kiss him.


	15. Rainbow. X-Factor era.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Does Rictor _want_ to go to this parade? Probably not, but Star is learning to deploy puppy-dog eyes and now there's no saving him.

"No way. I'm not gonna wear any of that."

Shatterstar gave him that raised-eyebrow look. In the old days he would've said _Julio?_ in that confused-concerned way of his, waiting for Ric to explain yet another oddity of human behavior to him. These days he just used the eyebrow.

Ric gestured helplessly at the pile of cloth on their bed, caught between laughter and horror. "It's -- it's so -- 'mano, have you ever seen me wear that many colors all at once? Purple? Orange? _Yellow_?"

"No," Star conceded, "but I have observed in the media that these colors are the traditional marker of pride during these events. And I know no one more proud than you."

"Uh, thanks. I guess." Ric peered down at the mess of rainbow-colored gear Star had unearthed after his shopping trip, and sighed, reaching down to pick up a tiny enamel pin that was the least flashy thing in the bundle. "Tell you what, I'll wear this thing, and that's it. You can wear whatever you want. Now, are we gonna go see this parade or what?"

Star smiled, looking gratified, and kissed Ric's cheek. "I will be prepared to leave in five minutes."

Five minutes later on the dot, Shatterstar was eye-smartingly covered in ridiculously bright colors. Rainbow stripes covered the distractingly tight tee, the shorts, the cowboy hat, the sunglasses, even his shoes. He'd even managed to cloak his swords in the striped cape he'd bought for some reason that only made sense to Shatterstar.

He was six foot six of lethal muscle and razor-sharp blades covered in rainbows and glitter, and Ric for one couldn't _wait_ to see what happened the first time some bozo on the subway decided to make a smart remark about it all.

He grinned up at Star and took his hand. "Looking good, corazon."


	16. Safety. X-Factor era.

Shatterstar had never liked guns. They were a coward's weapon, impersonal, imprecise, and distasteful to his sensibilities. If you couldn't taste your opponent's blood flying off your blade, see the darkness overtake his eyes and hear his last choked breath, there was no honor in the kill. It became mindless, meaningless butchery.

Learning that Julio now kept a handgun under his jacket, that he slept with the shining silver thing on his nightstand, had disturbed him, but he'd become much better at hiding the emotions he felt. Now he sat on the edge of their bed, turning the gun over in his hands.

Julio, who had always been a light sleeper and prone to nightmares, rolled over and squinted at him in the dim light. "Star? What’re you doing? It's three in the morning."

"I know," Shatterstar said, keeping his voice low. "I did not mean to wake you, Julio. Go back to sleep."

He made a noise of dismissal and sat up, shifting over next to him. "What's -- is that my gun?"

"Yes." He flipped the safety off and then back on, listening to the catch in Julio's breath. "I am trying to understand your current fondness for this weapon."

"Not much to understand, 'mano." Julio placed a hand on his bare thigh, running his thumb over the muscle as though to soothe him. "I'm not a mutant anymore." He frowned, the creases around his eyes deepening in sorrow or frustration or anger. The loss of his powers was painful to him, Shatterstar knew. "So I'm doing what I gotta do. Still lots of people out there who hate us, you know? And I'm not much use without a weapon."

Shatterstar took Julio's hand and wrapped it around the gun, curling his finger over the trigger. He rested the muzzle on his own chest and met Julio's eyes, searching for his reaction there. "If I were to become mind-controlled and attack you again, would you use it on me?"

"Santo Dios, Star." Julio shuddered and pushed the gun down between them, twisting the barrel away. "Don't even think that. You know that won’t happen." 

“But if it did,” Shatterstar persisted out of his need to _know_ that Julio would value his own safety above harm to Shatterstar himself. “You would use this weapon against me to protect yourself, would you not?”

Julio sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Listen -- okay, fine, if you were brainwashed and I had literally no other option, then yeah, I’d shoot you. Somewhere non-fatal. But it’ll never happen.”

Shatterstar allowed Julio to take the weapon from him and place it back on the nightstand. His thick hair was mussed and standing up on one side, his jaw was shadowed with stubble, his eyes were dark and sleepy and disturbed.

He nodded, lifting one hand to smooth down Julio's hair and cup his skull carefully. "Okay."

"Okay?" Julio repeated, one eyebrow raising.

"Okay," Shatterstar confirmed, and kissed him gently.

When they parted Julio was more relaxed, which had been Shatterstar's intention. He ran his fingers through Julio's hair, which was overgrown, though much shorter now than it had been years ago. He appreciated Julio's appearance no matter how long his hair was, but it was especially nice with enough length to wrap around his fingers.

He felt he had to make some explanation for his thoughts, particularly since he had woken his lover from a rare peaceful sleep, undisturbed by nightmares. “All I want,” he said, looking into Julio’s eyes, “is for you to be safe.”

Julio shook his head, but he was smiling faintly. “You got me up at three a.m. to say that?” He rolled back into bed, curling himself tightly in blankets. “Get back in here, querido. I was having a pretty good dream.”


	17. Rule 63. X-Factor era.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rule 63: if it exists, there is genderswapped ~~porn~~ _fanart_ of it on the internet.

Several Madroxes and Guido were huddled around Monet's laptop looking various shades of intrigued and gleeful, so Ric was already suspicious when he walked into the kitchen. "...What?" he said warily.

"Nothing, Ric!" one of the Jamies chirped, attempting to hide the screen with his body.

Ric shoved the dupe aside, ignoring the thump and double ows that followed, and peered over Guido's massive shoulder. He recoiled almost immediately. "What the _hell_ ," he amended his prior statement. "Is that lesbian porn? M's gonna kill all of you for looking at that stuff on her computer."

"It ain't _porn_ ," Guido told him. "It's _fanart_. Ya got fans, Ric!"

He blinked and looked closer. "Wha -- that's supposed to be _me_?"

"And that one's your boyfriend," Guido said, helpfully pointing. "I gotta admit, he makes a hot chick. Hey, Shatterstar, got any sisters you wanna introduce me to?"

Ric turned, feeling like he had lost the plot of this situation, if indeed he'd ever had it, to see that Shatterstar and Longshot had joined them in the kitchen, both of them sweaty and mussed like they'd just been sparring. "No," Star answered, unruffled as ever, and came over to rest a hand on Ric's shoulder, squeezing gently. "What are we looking at?"

"Porn," Longshot said cheerily from over Guido's other shoulder.

"Not porn," Guido argued.

"This red-haired woman is unusually attractive," Star observed. "And flexible."

"That's you," one of the Madroxes put in, clearly trying to be helpful.

Ric covered his eyes as Longshot whistled admiringly. "You would make an extremely sexually appealing woman," he informed Star.

"Thank you. As would you."

" _Hijo_ ," Ric muttered, his ears burning hot. "You people suck. _Don't say it, Guido_."

"Aw," Guido said.

Shatterstar squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "You also make a very good-looking woman, Julio. And the anatomical positioning of the drawing is intriguing. I wonder if we could adapt it for use in our own bedroom."

Guido and Jamie's dupes all looked slightly green, except for the one dupe who looked intrigued. (There was always one.) Longshot high-fived Shatterstar approvingly. Ric, who was red down to the neck now, grabbed Star's hand. "Okay, we're done. You guys -- you all suck, and you better clear that browser history before M shows up."

" _What_ was that?" said Monet from the doorway.

Ric dragged Star away just in time, to the accompaniment of a panicked chorus of Madroxes.


	18. Stars. X-Force era.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RicStar-in-Mexico is one of my favorite periods and I definitely don't write it enough.

Their truck, which was a pile of junk when they got it and not improved by the bullet holes and breakneck chases they subjected it to, broke down outside Chapala on a hot, dusty afternoon. Rictor took that as a sign, and used the money he'd taken from busting his uncle Tito's big deal to check them into a rinky-dink old motel half a mile from having a lake view.

Star didn't protest. He seemed like he loved being on the road, but even he must have been getting tired of sleeping in the damn truck, and the lure of a shower and cable TV was too tempting to resist.

"Hey," Ric said, after he'd gotten bored of watching Star flip through channels for a couple hours. "You wanna go swimming?"

The sun had set, but this wasn't the desert, and the heat didn't go down with it. The air was hot and still as they hiked through the scrubby hills to get to the lake, staying clear of roads.

Ric kept his back turned as they both stripped down. This thing between them was still new and cautious, and he hadn't worked up the courage yet to let Star see him looking.

It was easier once they were in the water, splashing and diving, just messing around like the teenagers both of them had rarely had the chance to be. He caught Star's smile, bright and white in the dark; it came easier now than it ever had across the border, now that it was just the two of them. Now that they were, well... what they were now.

He got tired of splashing eventually and just floated on his back, staring up at the night sky. The stars were coming out, so much brighter here than they were in the city. Floating was calming, like he didn't have to think or worry about anything, and he didn't even startle a few minutes later when his shoulders bumped into Star, standing behind him in the water.

"Hey," he said.

Star brought his arm under Ric's shoulders to squeeze him gently, letting Ric's head come to rest on his shoulder. "Hi," he replied. "I would give a penny to know your thoughts, Julio. I will fetch the penny once I have my clothing back."

"Big spender," Ric said, deadpan. "I dunno, I was just thinking about... not thinking. You know?"

Upside-down, he could just barely see Star's brow wrinkle as he considered that. "No," he said honestly after a moment.

"Okay," Ric said, unbothered. He reached up carefully and curled an arm around Star's neck, his fingers tangling in the hair at his nape. His hair was getting really long again. It flowed around his shoulders, drifting and clinging to both of them like seaweed. The ends tickled his arm a little. "Look up," Ric said, pitching his voice low.

Star did, staring at the sky with him. They were quiet like that for a long while, until the night's coolness settled down over them and Ric got enough goosebumps to chase him out of the water.

But even as he struggled back into his clothes, skin still damp and chilled, and clawed his wet hair back up into some semblance of a ponytail, the feeling stayed with him. Floating and weightless, anchored to the steadiest person he'd ever known, was the most secure he could remember feeling since... ever, maybe.

Maybe they'd have to stay here for a while, he thought as he scrambled back up the hillside after Star. At least until they found another car.


End file.
